


Amusement

by Ahmerst



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmerst/pseuds/Ahmerst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba’s first thought when Noiz takes him to an amusement park is what will happen if Noiz sets off the metal detector— and how he’ll explain why. His second is that he’s not entirely sure he wants to go on a roller coaster with four loops.</p>
<p>     Mostly though, he dwells on the first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amusement

Aoba’s first thought when Noiz takes him to an amusement park is what will happen if Noiz sets off the metal detector— and how he’ll explain why. His second is that he’s not entirely sure he wants to go on a roller coaster with four loops.

Mostly though, he dwells on the first. It’s enough of a burden on his mind when Noiz asks whether or not he’s excited. Aoba lets his thoughts tumble out in a not-quite-coherent way that leaves Noiz looking at him like his head is busted for one, two, three seconds before that dumb half-interested smirk curves his lips.

“Well if it’s a problem, I’m sure I can make them see it my way.”

“Okay first of all, I don’t know if you mean whipping it out, or greasing their palms with money,” Aoba starts, “And secondly, both of those will definitely get you kicked out before we even get in.”

“Oh, so you did want to come today?” Noiz asks, his sentence punctuated by the beep of his car alarm setting.

“I never said I didn’t. I said I’d had a bad experience in the past.”

“Which you never explained to me,” Noiz notes.

He starts walking then, heading off toward already-crowded gates with a long, confident gait. His right hand swings a little too far back to be casual, palm turned towards Aoba in an offering to take it. Aoba starts off after him and jogs three steps before he matches stride, slipping his hand into Noiz’s.

“Yeah, because you jumped me. Like, literally jumped me, at five am. Here I am— picture it, okay?”

“Okay,” Noiz deadpans.

“Picture me, nice and warm under the covers, having a nice little dream.”

“Duly pictured.”

“And then there’s you acting like you’re a seven year old on Christmas morning, still wet from your shower, jumping on me to wake up.”

“Yes, that was a thing I did. I remember it as if it happened today. In fact, I think it did.”

“Thanks for the affirmation, boy genius. Anyway, of course if you pounce me at the crack of dawn to ask about amusement parks, I’m not going to wax poetic about every time I’ve been to one. Hell, I hardly even recall what I said to you after that.”

“You didn’t say anything after that, just nodded off again. It was pretty cute until you almost rolled over on Ren.”

“I _what_?”

“The keyword here is ‘almost.’ I moved him before you could actually crush him.”

“Well, thanks I guess,” Aoba says. He squeezes Noiz’s hand and gets one in return. “No thanks for waking me up, though.”

“My pleasure,” Noiz says. “To both things.”

——-

“Look, the metal detector went off on that nice old man. If he sets it off, so will you,” Aoba observes, gesturing with a shoulder at the source of the beeping.

They’ve been in line for twenty minutes, the detector has gone off three times, and Aoba’s palm is starting to sweat lightly against Noiz’s. Still, he doesn’t let go.

“For all you know he has a metal hip, Aoba.”

“Or suspenders,” Aoba corrects, watching the man take them off before walking through again. The detector stays silent.

“You really need to cool it, I’ll be fine,” Noiz says.

He shakes his hand free, wipes his palm on Aoba’s pant leg, and laces their fingers back together. Before Aoba can tell him off for it, there’s a puff of warmth against his neck, the slight nip of teeth and a kiss combined into one.

It’s enough to render him warm and thoroughly distracted until they’ve entered the park, too concentrated on quelling the redness in his cheeks to notice that Noiz passes through without a problem.

——-

“So what exactly happened the last time you were at one of these?” Noiz asks, words half-obscured by the bite of pizza in his mouth.

It’s deep-fried, and Aoba can’t entirely wrap his mind around the fact that it exists. He nibbles at his own oversized corn dog, tries to recall what Noiz called it when he spoke to the food vendor. His knowledge of German is still minimal, and while he speaks when he can, he finds he still relies on Noiz to be his mouthpiece when it comes to ordering things.

“I went on one of those tilt a whirl things after eating. I kind of completely upchucked on Koujaku, and it wasn’t all that cute.”

“Amazing, absolutely amazing.”

“More like terrible. Completely terrible.”

“Well, if you decide to lose it after a ride, I’ll be sure to point and laugh. You know, do all that attention-drawing stuff for maximum amounts of embarrassment.”

For his flatly-intoned words, he raises a napkin to dab at the corner of Aoba’s mouth and wipes a smudge of ketchup away.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Aoba says, tongue darting out to swipe over the now-clean spot.

“One time when you were sleeping, I mean, at Glitter, I was totally ready to bite your hair.”

Aoba works at the food in his mouth, swallows it, and stares with a kind of disbelief at Noiz.

“You what?”

“Well I noticed you were all kinds of sensitive, so I kind of wanted to have a nibble to see what would happen.”

“And what, exactly, caused you to bring this up?” Aoba asks.

Even with the feeling mostly faded from his hair, the thought of teeth on the strands sends an unpleasant shiver through his nerves.

“You said to tell you something you didn’t know.”

Aoba sinks his molars into the now-clean corn dog stick and shoots Noiz a reprimanding look that’s especially from him. There’s a small voice in his head that asks why he even goes along with this kind of nonsense.

“Why do I even put up with you?” Aoba asks on an exhale as he pinches the bridge of his nose mockingly.

“Because I’m hot, rich, and a great lay.”

“If only that was the start,” Aoba says, leans forward to bump his forehead against Noiz’s.

Noiz laughs. It’s a sound that starts in his chest and it rumbles there like a subtle late-night earthquake before it reaches his throat. It escapes his lips like an after shock, and Aoba shakes his head as though he doesn’t like the sound.

But he loves it.

He loves Noiz.

——-

“You think Ren’s alright at home?” Aoba asks, casting his gaze up at the looping roller coaster they’re in line for.

“What’s he going to do, jump in the blender?” Noiz asks, shoulder bumping against Aoba’s. “I’m going to be incredibly honest with you right now, babe. That hunk of junk dog has entirely more common sense than you. I’d be more worried if you were home alone right now.”

“I’m not that bad,” is Aoba’s answer, quick and sure of himself.

“At least Ren remembers when the stove is left on.”

“Once, that was once. Plus you came home early, so of course I got all kinds of distracted.”

“Here’s the thing, Aoba. He’s fine, just as I’m sure all my little bunnies are fine. Unlike children, they don’t need babysitting as much as they need to be powered off.”

Aoba hums and nods before he glances to Noiz’s wrist. The slim, silver coil that’s usually omnipresent is for once gone, the tan line from it faint. Aoba rubs absently at the bare spot on his own wrist, half anxious to check his coil, half happy to have a day without it.

“Yeah, I know. I just worry is all.”

“Mm, that’s for sure.” Noiz says. “But here’s the thing, Ren’s a smart-ass dog. He’s not really, you know, like brainless bunny cubes. Smarter than your average all mate and all. Almost weirdly so.”

“Yeah, I know,” Aoba repeats, and he’s not sure what either Noiz or himself mean by it.

——-

“Still feel up to this one?” Noiz asks, as though the line for the carousel has been the worst thing all day.

Aoba watches the carved animals bob up and down while he picks out which he’d like to ride. He’s pretty sure Noiz has been eyeing the rabbit since they first noticed the attraction. His stomach gives a low kind of gurgle, and he’s not sure if it’s upset from the rides or hungry again.

“More than up for it,” Aoba says, and he finds himself gravitating closer to Noiz.

His hands settle on Noiz’s shoulders, grip with a certain affection before working deeper, firm against the tenses muscles beneath Noiz’s skin.

“Don’t do that,” Noiz says, his voice articulating the opposite.

“Why?” Aoba asks. His thumbs settle into a kink, circle against it until it starts to soften.

“Because it’s nice. Really nice.”

“Wow, that sounds awful. How dare I do something nice.”

“Really nice,” Noiz says again, and there’s a half breathless note at the end.

“How nice?”

Noiz casts half a glance over his shoulder, eyes a little lost and bright at the same time.

“Boner-inducingly nice, okay?”

“That so?” Aoba asks, lets his hands come to a rest for a moment before they start to slip away, finding their way to his own pockets.

Noiz looks at him like he’s half-disappointed, reaches a hand over his shoulder to scratch at the recently massaged spot.

“Think you wouldn’t mind finishing that massage up later tonight?” he asks.

“Only if you don’t make any happy ending jokes.”

“Not even one?”

“No. And while we’re on the subject of things not to do in the bedroom, don’t even try that ‘say that to my face not in Rhyme and see what happens’ line again or you’ll be sleeping on the couch for a week,” Aoba says, holding back a groan as he recalls that moment and what a mood killer it had been.

“Oh come on, that was comedy gold.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Aoba says as he brushes by Noiz when they’re let in for their turn on the carousel.

He makes a point of taking the rabbit before Noiz can, smiles sweetly as Noiz is relegated to a sour-faced horse instead. His expression matches it perfectly.

——-

“I don’t know if I’m going to like this,” are Aoba’s first words when Noiz comes back from grabbing a snack.

It’s not a snack so much as a plate piled with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. There’s powdered sugar and chopped nuts as well as other toppings he doesn’t entirely recognize sprinkled in. Two forks stick out from the mess, and in Noiz’s other hand are too many napkins to count.

“You’ll love it, trust me,” Noiz says, setting it before Aoba before sitting next to him. He’s quick to spear a strawberry and he brings it to Aoba’s mouth instead of his own.

“I’m not sure if I’m into the food equivalent of trust falls,” Aoba says, but he accepts the bite anyway, nips at the tines before he chews. It doesn’t taste any different from strawberries he’s had before, and he decides this probably won’t be as bad as he figured it would be.

He takes a turn with his own fork, manages to scoop up nothing but whipped cream, and feeds it right to Noiz. They take turns like that, scraping up bits of sweetness and fried dough, never bringing it to their own mouths.

“You totally just fed me a strand of your own hair,” Noiz says eventually, and the calm, collected romance of the moment is jarred.

“I did no such thing,” Aoba says quickly.

“Yes you did, but I love you so much I ate it anyway.”

“I don’t know if I’d consider that love so much as you being a weirdo, which is generally par for the course.”

“Either way,” Noiz says, putting his fork down and carding his fingers through the hair that hangs over Aoba’s shoulders and rests against his chest, “it wouldn’t exactly hurt to push some of this back to stop you from chewing on it too.”

With the topic of hair being chewed on being returned to, a sharp cringe runs through Aoba’s entire body as he thinks it over. At least until Noiz’s hand is running through his hair again, more thoughtful this time, as it brushes at it his bangs before his fingertips are moving along Aoba’s scalp.

His touch brings forth a mellow sort of warmth, an easy pleasure that flares under Aoba’s skin before is settles into a simmer. Aoba tilts his head ever so slightly to lean into the touch, wonders if it feels this good for everyone.

He certainly understands how a back massage for Noiz, someone with such a small spectrum of sensitivity up until recently, can be an experience that leads to the bedroom. Aoba makes a note to see if impromptu head-pettings can incur the same reaction in Noiz as they do in himself, doesn’t doubt that he was at the very least into hair-pulling back in the old days.

“That’s enough,” Aoba says, but only when Noiz’s nails trace along the nape of his neck, scratch at where the hair ends.

“Trade you a head-petting for a back rub tonight,” Noiz offers as his hand falls away.

Leave it to him to know exactly what Aoba’s thinking.

“You’re on.”

Noiz smiles, and it looks foreign on his face. Not bad, though. Just something new and not quite settled in. Aoba lets himself bump against Noiz’s, rests there and lets his eyes close halfway.

There’s a silence between them, no words spoken as the sounds of the fair play in the background, voices speaking in a language he doesn’t know and cheesy songs playing.

“I love you,” is what Noiz says when he breaks the silence. It’s sudden and roundabout, and that’s how Aoba knows he really means it.

Not that he ever doubts it.

“Love you too,” Aoba says, leaning in and pressing his lips to Noiz’s. He lingers for a second, then two, then three, and for once it’s his turn to comment, “it’s sweet.”

Noiz licks his lips as Aoba pulls back, his smile still there.

“Enough to go through the Tunnel of Love with me?”

Aoba’s laughter is soft and worn as he looks up at the sky, sees the twinkling stars in the sky and the glow of the moon behind a cloud. His feet are sore and his body tired from an already long day, and there’s a large part of him that wants to go home.

But an even larger part of him wants nothing more than to indulge Noiz in whatever whim he can, stay as close as possible every hour, minute, second of the day. So instead he stands and stretches instead, offers his hand to Noiz and grips it tight when he pulls him up.

“For you, anything.”

 

————-


End file.
